


Control

by carminnat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Bucky, Angst, Experimentation, F/M, Ice Powers, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader is a former Black Widow, Sad, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr request, low key romanogers, sad bucky, uh i wrote this over a year ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carminnat/pseuds/carminnat
Summary: After a mission gone awry, you are placed under HYDRA influence, and it's taken a bigger toll on the team than expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ((yes i am fully aware of the fact that zemo isn't a HYDRA scientist or operative for that matter. keep in mind i wrote and posted this on tumblr back in sept/oct 2015 in my defence))

_Your eyes snap open the second you hear the shuffling outside your cell. You scurry up from the discomfort of your unpadded cot, tugging on the sleeves of your cotton-white shirt._

_The door slides open. There stands an armed soldier, clearly beckoning you out with him. You hesitate, but you follow anyway. He cuffs your wrists behind your back and roughly drags you to where you suppose is the experimental ward._

_The sight of scientists wandering about with tubes containing peculiarly-coloured fluids makes you sick to your stomach. Despite the entire facility looking like a hospital recovery room with curtains and doctors alike, there is a grittiness that peaks at your wariness._

_The soldier stops at the cot nearing the head of base you’ve already “acquainted” yourself with: Helmut Zemo._

_Your anger is expressed in your stare. “Given the time, I supposed you would’ve gotten the picture. I’ve said enough about the Avengers.”_

_“And by ‘enough,’ you mean nothing,” Zemo proposes with a scowl. You don’t respond to that and he only laughs. “I assure you this has nothing to do with your friends.”_

_“Why should I believe that?”_

_He twists his lips and raises his brows. “The element of persuasion?” he suggests. You’re unimpressed. He nods. “Of course that would be a tough act against a Black Widow.”_

_You shift on your feet at the mention of your many identities; no doubt the most notorious._

_Your silence earns an ongoing ramble by Zemo. “It’s truly unfortunate you’ve drifted from the name — the title you could’ve taken up for yourself and yourself only.” Your breathing deepens at the reminders. The Red Room. The music. Natalia and you, stripped from your youth at an early age… “Perhaps that way, you’d be less open to running, to rebelling.”_

_“What do you want from me?” you finally insist after the persistent and utterly loud attempt at the element of persuasion._

_“I want your cooperation.” He gestures to the vicinity. “You’ve long been part of the larger world outside of the quaint, the familiar. You know what it is like to be remade and you’re witnessing our steps to success; to power.”_

_“What I see is fear of what the good can do. You use. You torture. You break. Is that your success? Is that your power?” you ask._

_“There is no good in our reality. We only do what’s necessary. You, of everyone, should understand that. It’s a process.”_

_You shake your head in disgust. “Then fuck cooperation.”_

_Zemo chuckles. He moves backward a few steps, hands reaching for the curtain that hangs closed behind him and surrounding a large space of the room. “I hoped we wouldn’t get to this point. He’s been through so much already, after all…”_

_Before you can merely raise a brow at your peaked curiosity and paranoia, he pulls the curtains open. A figure is confined to the medical cot, wires connecting his body to a machine nearest the corner. You recognize him immediately, through cuts and bruises and all, his name falling from your lips as you stumble forward. But the soldier behind you forces you to your knees, the cuffs digging into your flesh._

_Bucky meets your gaze from the cot. “Y/N… Don’t—” He is interrupted by his own screams. Your eyes widen, and you’re sure you’re shouting over all the noise. Zemo stands by the machine, clearly gesturing to the scientists at control. He holds a hand up at them, halting Bucky’s screams. He strains against the confinements, chest heaving._

_How the hell did he end up here? Rescue mission gone wrong, perhaps. Way to be a fucking hero, Barnes. You swallow hard, glaring up at Zemo. Element of persuasion._

_“You just won’t give up, will you?” you hiss._

_Zemo grins. “Of course not. But you understand how this works. It’ll be simple to move him to the chair.”_

_He’s taunting you. You know that by now. But it’s no life or death; it’s one way or another. And you know Bucky well enough. He’d rather die than be in HYDRA’s hands again._

_You take a deep breath. “If I give you my word, he’ll be liberated.”_

_“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”_

* * *

Natasha seats herself next to Steve in the Quinjet, carefully listening to his instructions albeit the fact that she and him had already ran over the plan beforehand. She peeks over at Barnes, who sits as still and quiet as ever just across from her. She knows that he’s listening too, but it’s more than likely his mind is wandering further from that.

She recalls her initial anger at him after the incident. It was his job to keep an eye on you; his job to make sure you stood where you were supposed to. But the more she’d thought it through over the course of 48 hours, she was reminded that she had a window. She could’ve pull you out of HYDRA’s grasp and she completely missed it. So she supposes Barnes has his own grudge against her too, which is more than likely.

Anyone with eyes can see how deeply this boy cares about you. To be frank, it wasn’t unlikely that the two of you would hit it off. Natasha was able to see it from a mile away. From day one has she been monitoring Bucky’s mannerisms around you: lingering glances, softening expression, willing touches, hand grabbing. You respond to him with the same amount of affection. No one really minds except Natasha and Steve; in a good way, of course. She hadn’t expected you to find someone to give your all to other than herself. It’s relieving and endearing to see the two of together.

But even so, selfish thoughts manage to creep into her head. She had known you far longer than anyone else on the team. You understand everything she’s been through, seeing as you had always been by her side. You’re her friend. You’re her sister. And though Natasha knows you’re fully capable of handling yourself, she practically pulls her hair out wondering what the hell they are doing to you…

A warm hand is on her shoulder. “Nat.”

She stares up and Steve is giving her that look. The look of assurance, empathy. He doesn’t need to say a word. He only gives her a mere nod, one last squeeze on her shoulder, and then he seats himself beside Bucky.

Their voices are lowered. Natasha knows what this will turn out to be. She only hopes for the best. She sighs, leaning back in her seat, avidly waiting for the signal.

* * *

_The Bolshoi seems a lot smaller than what you had been used to. It’s strange, since it’s only your presence that occupies the dance studio. The grand piano sits at the corner of the room, empty._

_You set up at the centre, gathering yourself into position. Just before the music begins, you take in your appearance in the large mirrors. Hair slicked back neatly into a bun. Makeup grazing your features. Your costume adorning all shades of rose and white…_

_It is not the same little girl who started out in this very building, this very spot. It’s you; far more experienced; far more damaged. Who knew only touches of makeup and soft white lace could mask all of it? The piano ballad leads you into moving. Tchaikovsky. You easily get lost in the dance, recalling every bit of your passion and dedication. How could you forget it?_

_You are watching your movements in the mirrors and you’re nearly startled by the unmistakable voice of Madame B. “Again.”_

_You stop in your routine. She doesn’t appear to be anywhere in the room. Something else, however, catches your attention: the spreading frost on the glass of the mirrors, your breath steaming in front of you. The room is almost entirely iced over when you look around, but what frightens you is the sight of Natalia, Yelena, the other girls still and frostbitten on the dance floors._

_Madame B. speaks again. “That was an improvement.”_

_You are unable to tear your gaze off the lifeless bodies of the girls. “But Natalia…”_

_“They are weak. They are fragile. They are not like you,”  your instructor interrupts. “They do not possess what you possess.”_

_Your fingers twitch at your sides. “What I possess.”_

_You can picture her stern smile even though she doesn’t appear to be anywhere around you. It’s a sign; you scurry back to first position._

_“Again.”_

* * *

“Buck — you got eyes on Y/N?” Steve’s voice rings through Bucky’s earpiece as he treads carefully along the seemingly deserted halls of the HYDRA base’s experimental ward. The area’s temperature has dropped to a peculiar minimum. It’s even more so obvious when he sees the light snow gathered at the corners one of the cell doors.

“No, but I’m getting somewhere,” Bucky replies. He pushes the door open, human hand grazing the gun on his hip. It retreats the second he spots your figure strapped to the gurney, letting out a breath that steams in the cooler air.

“Y/N,” he breaths out, pressing his fingers to every pulse point, hurriedly working at the restraints around your body when he feels just how cold your skin is.

Your eyes open at the contact. His first name falls from your lips in a whimper.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m gonna get you out of here. All right?” He quickly lifts you into his arms, knowing how slack your muscles are, but you nod nonetheless. He quickly exits the ward, moving as quick as he can.

“You’re okay,” you tiredly murmur into his shoulder.

He furrows his brows. “Yeah, yeah. Are you okay?“

It seems like you completely dismiss his question. “They had you. They hurt you, to do this to me…”

Bucky nearly pauses in his steps, but he does stiffen, careful not to grip you too tight. “No, Y/N, I wasn’t… What’d they do to you?”

“I—”

You’re interrupted by the sudden set of racking footsteps getting closer and closer. Bucky hurries his speed, but the group of HYDRA agents behind him manage catch up. He is prepared to call for backup from Sam, Natasha, Wanda, anyone, but the sound of crackling and the following silence is almost too quick to ignore. Bucky peeks over his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of large icicles erupting from the floor and spearing through the soldiers’ body in the iced-over hallway.

He turns to you, your astonishment clear in his eyes. He continues running, heaving out, “That you?”

But quite frankly, you’re too lost in your head to answer. He can tell by the sudden snowfall in the inside of the building. But the quicker he gets to the exit, the more powerful the snowfall becomes. He calls out to you, despite the fact that you’re right there.

“I-I can’t control it,” you breathe out, gripping your palms to your chest.

He doesn’t ask again. Instead he becomes focused on getting you on the Quinjet all safe and sound.

* * *

Doctor Cho hadn’t shown the barest amount of hesitation to take you into her care in her lab at Headquarters. She runs tests on you now, door shut but inside still visible through the glass wall Bucky stands opposite of.

Steve approaches him with ease, leaning against the wall and watching his friend’s unwavering stare on your still form inside of the laboratory. It’s not at all strange to see Bucky in this state. He’s been on the edge since you’d fallen unconscious on the entire ride back. Steve is tempted to ask, but knows from experience to let Bucky have some time to think.

“Before they used that machine to wipe me, there was this doctor. He’d talk to me for a bit, and after, I’d be somewhere else. I’d be in Brooklyn. You’d be there to talk me into things… Crazy things,” Bucky finally murmurs, still watching as Helen evaluated you. “In the beginning, I knew it wasn’t you. So he twisted the game: you’d turn into the victim and then I’d have to say yes.”

Steve’s brows knit together. To hear about such a thing has his fists balling up, so he crosses his arms over his chest. Bucky had never previously said anything about hypnosis, but it’s clear at what he’s getting at.

“They used it on her,” Bucky finishes.

Steve clenches his jaw. It’s tough to gather, knowing how much your mind has already suffered with what your history. And knowing HYDRA’s alterations to you… Well, it was no wonder why the Quinjet was so cold on the way back to HQ.

The lab door opens. Helen offers a small smile and gestures for the two to come in.

“So?” Steve questions.

“Well, she certainly is enhanced,” she responds, scanning over her notes in the tablet in her hands. “Faster healing cells, increased metabolism, neuro-cryogenic interfacing…”

Steve glances over her shoulder at your still form on the medical gurney. You appear utterly content, but the sparks of silvery-blue flickering from the tips of your fingers are not hard to miss. He almost expects at the sudden drop of temperature or perhaps even a light flurry coming from the ceiling, but nothing comes about.

“You can read over her file, if you’d like,” Helen offers Bucky, bringing Steve’s attention back to her.

“Thank you, Helen, for doing this,” Steve says as she starts toward the door.

She smiles again. “I expect she won’t awake for another few hours. She’s quite worn out.” Her statement is left as soon as she departs.

When Steve takes his own look at your evaluation, he can only sigh and place it down on one of Helen’s desks. “You plan on staying with her?”

Bucky nods, earning a comforting squeeze to his shoulder and one last glance before Steve exits.

* * *

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve been let out of the medical ward at HQ and back into your shared apartment with Natasha. You were already allowed some time off while you accustom yourself to the new way of things. Though it is getting easier, you’re still running into a breach time and time again.

Everyone has been both doing what they can in your aid and giving you the space you always claim you want. Natasha especially. You find that it’s difficult to face her now for fear you might harm her in some way. The image of her lifeless and frostbitten on the floors of the Bolshoi are still like ice in your mind.

Though her persistence to find more contact with you has been faltering, you find it hard to believe she’d given up. You think you’re right as soon as there are a set of knocks on your bedroom door.

You don’t speak, but whoever is on the other side does in favour of your silence. “Y/N, I’m coming in.”

The voice is unmistakable and the appearance even more so. Bucky shuts the door behind him, setting himself across from you at your seat by the window. Instinctively, you tug your hand-wraps further up your fingers. You supposed that the more you hide, the more you can neglect. Clearly, it’s untrue.

“Where’ve you been?” he quietly asks.

“I couldn’t go anywhere else but here, James,” you answer, watching as the cars drive by on the road below.

“Then what’s on your mind?”

You meet his gaze. Normally, it’d be you to ask him this question. You bite your lip, sighing. “It’s just… Even before all of this, I didn’t think I could get any worse than I was. But now I see myself in a bigger form. A scarier form,” you recount. “But it’s still me. And I can barely keep it all under now. It’s one chip away from a permanent frostbite you can’t shake off. For everyone.”

He holds his robotic hand out, palm up and eyes steadied on yours. You know what he’s doing; this was your way to loosen him whenever he was in a moment of doubt. It meant that the two of you were no different. So his free hand takes ahold of one of yours, his touch gentle as he places it palm down on his metal hand. It’s instinct to flinch away from him, but he’s prodding you to remain still. You clear your mind of the image of frost creeping over the grooves of his arm, and instead you find that your eyes are filling with tears.

He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. You cry against his shoulder, burying yourself further into his embrace. It’s comforting to be this way with him after what felt like so long. You’re losing yourself, but you know he doesn’t mind.

It will be okay.

_We’re going to be okay._


End file.
